


Scientific Method

by SushiOwl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dildos, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is curious about Derek's refractory period, since he's a werewolf. Derek invites him to test it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientific Method

**Author's Note:**

> I **do not** give my consent to have my works listed on goodreads.

Stiles was like a blanket, all sprawled out on Derek's front with his face nuzzled up under his stubbly chin. Derek rather liked it, because he could run his hands along Stiles's back, massage the muscles around his spine and more or less make him into a happy puddle of Stiles flavored goo. They were splayed out on the couch in his loft, and he was pretty sure that Stiles was falling asleep, or at least in that in and out dozing state. Derek had his eyes closed, just listening to the music that Stiles had picked out for them.

Then Stiles shifted, stretching out and making a little noise before he yawned. “Hey,” he said, his voice a bit of a slur.

“Hm?” Derek replied, his fingers kneading into the back of Stiles's neck.

“Got a question.” Stiles melted into Derek with a huff.

“Shoot.”

“What's your refractory period?” Stiles asked, muffled since his face was smashed into Derek's neck.

“What.” Derek stopped massaging him as he tried to figure out where that question came from. He could just swear that Stiles's brain ran on a different wavelength than everyone else, one much faster where it could make connections in conversation that Derek certainly couldn't follow. 

“How long does it take—“

“I know what it means,” Derek grumbled. Seriously, what about lying on a cough and listening to Marina and the Diamonds lent itself to talk about _that_?

“Well, how long?” Stiles asked again, shuffling his elbow onto the couch cushion so he could lift up and look at Derek's face. “I mean, as a werewolf?”

Derek squinted at him, before he rolled his eyes. “Short,” he replied.

“How short?” Stiles pressed. “Ten minutes? Five minutes? One minute? Thirty seconds?”

Derek knocked Stiles's elbow out from under him, turning them so he could sandwich him between his own hard body and the back of the couch. “Maybe you'll just have to find out for yourself,” he told him as he snuffled against his hair.

Stiles wriggled at bit as he got comfortable, before he nipped Derek's Adam's apple, drawing out a growl. “I might do just that.”

###### 

After that conversation, Derek didn't think anything of it. He'd heard Stiles make similar promises, but they never came to head, so he was more than sure that his ridiculous human was not going to go through with it. That was why he was surprised when he heard a knock on his door several days later and found Stiles there with his backpack slung over his shoulder. It was summer break, so Stiles wasn't taking classes at the local community college at the moment, which led Derek to believe he was plotting something and had brought tools to assist him.

“Hey, you,” Stiles said, stepping inside and lifting onto his toes to throw his arms around Derek's neck and kiss him.

“Hey,” Derek replied against his mouth, shutting the loft's heavy door. Then he pulled Stiles's backpack off his shoulder and started unzipping it. “What did you bring?” he asked, opening it up to look.

But Stiles snatched it away and held it against his chest with a sly grin. “Nuh uh, snugglewolf, it's a surprise.” He reached out and grabbed Derek's hand, dragging him toward the spiral staircase.

Derek let himself be tugged along. He could just feel Stiles's excitement, and he knew that he'd planned out something that had probably been on his mind for a while now. He grunted when Stiles pushed him down onto the bed once they were upstairs, and he crawled back to lean against his pillows.

“Off,” Stiles said, dropping the bag at the end of bed and indicating to Derek's clothes. 

Derek did as told, tugging off his shirt and undoing his his belt as he watched Stiles struggle out of his own shirt, like he was thrumming with too much excitement that he couldn't get his body to work with him. Derek got his pants undone and was going to push them down, but Stiles scrambled forward to hook his fingers over the hems and pull them over Derek's ass, thighs and eventually off, throwing them away. Derek was already half hard and wanting, his cock laying thick against his stomach.

“You ready for this?” Stiles asked leaning over him and licking at his chest. 

“For what?” Derek asked, arching up and letting out a little hiss as his nipple was scraped with teeth.

“An experiment,” Stiles told him, maneuvering himself between Derek's legs and pushing his knees apart. “I'm going to make you come again and again and take down the times in between.” At Derek's low, surprised moan, he grinned, before he dragged his bag up and brought out his phone to set it next to them. “First rule of science: repeat the results, or it isn't accurate.”

“How many times are you shooting for?” Derek asked, his cock filling out and hardening at the very idea.

“Heh, shooting,” Stiles said, because he was twelve on the inside, giggled when Derek kneed him gently in the side. “As many times as I can,” he promised, ducking back down again to press sucking kisses along Derek's stomach.

Derek hadn't played this kind of game since he was a teenager. He knew his refractory period back then had been close to nothing, which was probably a werewolf standard though he had never discussed it with anyone. Now he wasn't so sure, since he was in his mid-twenties and had matured sexually. But he definitely wasn't going to complain here.

He grunted at the first flick of a broad tongue across the head of his cock. He looked down to see that Stiles had pushed his foreskin down and was lapping at him like he was an melting ice cream cone. Fuck, what a sight. He groaned hard when Stiles swallowed him down, one hand around the base of his cock. He moved his mouth and his hand in a fast, punishing rhythm, no teasing. Stiles was not messing around. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Derek growled out, his hips jerking into the hot suction of Stiles's mouth because he just couldn't help himself. Stiles didn't seem to mind. He dropped his hand off of Derek's cock and started to bob his head faster and deeper so that Derek's cockhead bumped the back of his throat with every go.

It was all over embarrassingly fast. Derek couldn't even try to hold back, especially when Stiles started to hum like the asshole he was. He arched off the bed with a shout, and Stiles drank him down, swirling his tongue against the slit like he couldn't get enough. He pulled off with a hard suck that made Derek let out this little whine. God, he was so sensitive already.

When Derek's eyes fluttered up, he saw Stiles drop his phone back onto the mattress, a timer running on the face. Then Stiles leaned back and grabbed his bag, pulling out a bottle of lube and wasting no time to spread some on his fingers. Derek could only go with the movements as Stiles spread his legs apart, feeling heavy and tingling with pleasure. As Stiles ran his fingers in a circle around Derek's hole, he let out a little moan, turning his head against the pillows and panting.

“You weren't kidding,” he mumbled.

“Shh,” Stiles instructed, petting Derek's thigh. “Just focus on the sexy.” 

That made Derek laugh, but it quickly turned into a groan as Stiles's finger pressed inside of him. He clenched around it, sighing at the feeling, and it soon became two fingers, long and clever, that found that place inside of him with lightning speed. He could feel his cock filling back up, heating up as the blood returned to it, and he couldn't help but rock his hips down on Stiles's hand.

“God, you are so fucking hot,” Stiles said, running his hand up Derek's thigh then over his stomach and chest as his fingers worked Derek's hole like they were made for it. 

Derek chuckled, watching him and licking his lips, before he let out a moan when Stiles grabbed his semi-hard cock and started to pump it in time with his fingers working like a piston in and out of his hole. He could feel himself expanding in Stiles's grip, the way his fingers felt tighter even though they didn't change their hold. He jerked his hips, not sure which hand he was moving into, but it didn't matter. 

Stiles let go of his cock, which made Derek give a mournful kind of noise. “Patience, sillywolf,” Stiles told him, grabbing his phone and stopping the timer now that Derek was hard and throbbing again. “Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. That is impressive, and I'm a little jealous.” He dropped the phone onto the bed. “Let's see if we can match it.” 

“Sti—ah God,” Derek moaned as Stiles wormed another finger inside of him and started rubbing at his prostrate with abandon. His body felt electrified, like every nerve ending was frayed and reaching for Stiles, wanting his touch all over. He pumped his hips down to meet his hand, little groans and keens being punched out of him with every aimed stab of Stiles's fingers. 

When Stiles's other hand joined in, pumping Derek's cock up and down, he cried out, fisting his hands into the sheets and pulling. He couldn't help the movements of his body, the way his legs twitched and his feet pushed into the mattress. His stomach was bunching, showing his abs, and releasing with each roll of his hips. He tossed his head back, lips parting and sounds tumbling out as a rolling heat built and built and built and then _exploded_ in his body.

Lights were dancing in front of his eyes as he floated down from his cloud. When he could focus he saw Stiles hitting a button of his phone to start another timer. Derek felt like his whole body was a boneless bag of sand, weighted and immovable. He was done. He closed his eyes and turned his head to snuggle into his pillow. 

Then Derek jerked with a loud cry when he felt a pressure and an amazing, overwhelming vibration just behind his balls. He looked up to find Stiles pinning one of his legs to the mattress with a grin and a red vibrator in his hand. Derek couldn't even muster up the language skills to call him something rude, because Stiles pressed that toy into his perineum and started massaging it up and down. Words died, and all he could do was moan and convulse because it was so much sensation.

“Stiles, _Stiles_ ,” was the only thing he could say. The pleasure was so sharp that it could have been pain, but Derek had lost the ability to tell the difference. He knew he was getting hard again, against all reason, and he doubted he would survive his next orgasm. It was too much, just too much!

“Three minutes and ten seconds,” Stiles said, sounding impressed again, before he dropped the phone back to the bed. “Turn over, sexywolf,” he told him, giving the inside of his thigh a slap, and it stung so sweetly. 

Derek wasn't sure how he managed to roll over since his bones felt liquified, but he did. He wrapped his arms around a pillow under his head and spread his legs out wide, canting his hips so he was exposed. He wanted Stiles to push off those pants he was wearing and thrust deep inside of him, to press their bodies together so neither of them would be able to tell where one of them ended and the other began. 

Stiles pressed the toy against him again, making him whine and rock back. Stiles's dark little chuckle made Derek shudder, goosebumps raising on his back and thighs. He moved the toy up and down, pushing between his balls and making him cry out at the stab of pleasure. When the tip of the toy laid against his hole, Derek pushed back, wanting more, but Stiles didn't give it to him, instead smacking his ass and pulling the toy away.

Derek pressed his face into his pillow, listening to the cap of the lube being popped. He hoped this meant Stiles was going to take him, to ride him into his next mind blowing orgasm. But the slick, blunt pressure against his hole wasn't a familiar one. He arched his back and looked over his shoulder to see Stiles pressing a tie-dye dildo—of all things—into him. It was thick and long and everything that Derek wanted, and he couldn't help the throaty whine that poured from his parted lips.

As before, Stiles wasn't interested in teasing or build up. He just held that vibrator against Derek as his pounded that dildo in and out of him, his fingers holding tight on the flared base. Derek was beside himself with pleasure, moaning and crying out as the dildo dragged heavily across his prostate with each thrust and the vibrator took him apart. It didn't even feel like Stiles was fucking him with two toys. It just felt like an explosion of waves after waves of pleasure that he couldn't get his head above, so he was drowning. 

He came a third time with a room shattering roar, his claws tearing into his pillow as his dick soaked the sheet underneath him. He was a panting, quivering mess, his body jolting every couple of seconds as Stiles pushed against the base of the dildo and made it press into his prostate. 

“I wish you could see yourself,” Stiles told him, slowly pulling the dildo out and setting it aside. His hands started moving up and down the backs of Derek's thighs, soothing heated, quivering skin. “You're so damn hot. Can you turn back over?” 

It took some effort, and Stiles helped, but Derek managed to get onto his back, his arms flopping out to his sides and his chest heaving as he tried to get himself under control. 

“You're like a rag doll,” Stiles commented as he undid his pants and pushed them and his underwear down and off his legs. He picked up the lube again, squirting some onto his fingers.

“I can't,” Derek forced out, his voice a hoarse, broken thing that he doesn't recognize.

“Yes, you can, babe, I believe in you,” Stiles replied sweetly, leaning over his thighs and taking Derek's soft cock in hand to start stroking it as his slicked fingers went between his own legs to press into his hole without preamble. And the way he looked, fuck, it was obscene. Stiles tossed his head back, baring his throat and letting out little noises as his fingers moved in and out. He spread them, showing red, before he hooked the ring of his hole and pulled, releasing this kind of whine noise that had Derek's cock twitching in Stiles's hand.

It didn't take much longer before Stiles grabbed his phone and stopped the timer. “Two minutes and fifty seconds,” he said with a smile, before he tossed his phone onto the pillows. “I think that's enough for scientific curiosity.” Derek made an unintelligible noise of relief, and Stiles grinned at him. He grabbed his bag and pulled out a condom, rolling it down Derek's cock then straddling him. He dropped himself down onto him with an 'uhn!' of the oxygen being punched out of him.

Derek couldn't do anything but set his hands on Stiles's thighs and hold on for the ride as he was, well, _ridden_. Stiles braced his hands on Derek's chest to pull himself up and slam back down, over and over again, sounds of pleasure tumbling from his lips like a sinful waterfall. 

“Fuck, Derek, ahn, fuck!” Stiles was saying, head thrown back and powerful thighs working. It was a beautiful sight, and Derek was determined to keep watching even though his vision was going fuzzy at the edges from all the pleasure he was feeling. He didn't know anything beyond the solid weight of Stiles on top of him and the hot, sweet grip of his hole. 

Stiles was his everything, his sweet, silly, brilliant human that challenged and completed him, and he never wanted anything else but to be in his company. He moaned out Stiles's name, digging his fingers into those pale thighs and letting filthy praise pour from his mouth. He had no idea what he was saying, but Stiles was smiling down at him, so he must have liked it. Stiles was riding him like it was going out of style, and in the back of Derek's mind he knew Stiles was going to be sore, but the rest of his mind was drowning that out with the mental equivalent of a key-smash.

“C'mon, Derek,” Stiles panted as he moved, scratching his blunt nails down Derek's chest and over his pebbled nipples. “Make me come.” He licked his lips as Derek arched and jerked his hips. “You've had yours. Now gimme mine.”

With a sudden burst of energy and strength, Derek braced his feet on the bed and grabbed Stiles's ass, pulling his cheeks apart as he pounded up into his hole. Stiles shouted, his hands gripping Derek's shoulders as he just tried not to topple over with the unnatural strength of Derek's thrusts. It wasn't often that Derek let his wolf shine through in bed, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself, especially when Stiles demanded it. 

Stiles let out a sharp cry, nails digging into Derek's skin and head flying back as he striped Derek's stomach with white. His muscles clamped down on Derek's cock, making his eyes roll back in his head as he hit his fourth orgasm. Then everything was bright and floaty and happy.

When he came back to reality, he couldn't feel his limbs. He opened his eyes just a little bit to see Stiles removing his condom, knotting it off and tossing it in the trash. Then Stiles cuddled up against his side, pulling the covers over their naked bodies and lifting his phone to his face. “Okay, to average your times out...” He gave a little kitten yawn as he hit a few buttons. “Two minutes and fifty two seconds, which is pretty impressive given your age. Mine isn't even that short.”

“How short is yours?” Derek mumbled, because he was already half asleep.

“I haven't collected enough data to know down to the precise second,” Stiles replied. That was a bit of a surprise.

Derek let his mouth slowly spread into a grin. “I know what we're doing tomorrow then.”

“Oh holy God.”

**Author's Note:**

> How to math? I'm not entirely sure my calculation is right. Feel free to correct me.


End file.
